Dear Parents and Friends,
The bright and hot days of the summer have definitely settled in. Children are off to camp, mothers
revel in the freedom of no homework, and the cooling waters of a sun drenched day bring much need-
Unfortunately the carefree days of summer have been eclipsed by the sadness of the recent passing of
a young father (Mr. Michael Mosheyev) and a young mother (Mrs. Rochel (Snyder) Goldberg). I am
sitting at my dining room table trying to convey a comforting and meaningful message. My tears are
forming a filmy haze on my paper, and all I can do for the moment is watch the droplets of my tears
obliterate my written words.
It is the month of Tamuz, the month heralding mourning for the destruction of the Batei Mikdash.
Throughout the ages Klal Yisroel has grieved and yearned for the Galus to come to an end. And now
here we are, Tamuz 5777. We are still mourning the Batei Mikdash; we are still yearning for the Geu-
lah Shileima, and yes, we are grieving for the neshamos that are no longer with us.
It has been a difficult year for our community far and wide. We have experienced several losses this
past year, and we and their beloved families know the void they have left can never be filled.
Each person that Hashem creates is created with unique qualities, special gifts, and a purpose that only he/
she can fulfill.
I must admit I have had a difficult time reconciling my brain with my heart. My intellect has accepted
that Hashem is the Architect of our Universe, and He holds the blueprints and can amend them as He
wishes. My heart, however, is crying for those whose lives have been altered forever. Myt emotions
have been churning in turbulence colliding with the rational part of me. It is Hashem’s Will, and while I don’t understand, I accept. While I am sorrowful, I accept. While I want no one to grieve, I accept.
I was reminded of a speech I recently heard at an out-of-town event; its message resonating with me
at this very difficult time. I would like to share it with you with the hope that it will bring a sense of
comfort to those who need it, as it has brought me.
A wealthy man built a huge mansion with seventy-five floors. He proclaimed that whoever could
climb the seventy-five floors to the top of the mansion would become its proud owner. One can only
imagine the number of people who attempted to try the long arduous climb. Many, many tried.
Everyone, however, became so fatigued that they stopped before they even climbed half way. Each
person who surrendered to their physical limitations left feeling dejected and experienced a sense of
failure. They had not achieved their goal and, consequently, no one thus far had been able to ac-
quire this most desired mansion.